


Bellyaches - Prompt: Starvation

by bluest_skies



Series: Daily Destiel Drabble - Destiel Smut Brigade [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Mojo, Impala Sex, M/M, Rimming, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluest_skies/pseuds/bluest_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the life of Dean Winchester, there were many times when he went hungry. His dad wouldn't make it back in time and the food would run out. Or Dean would be short on cash and make sure Sammy was fed instead. He always ignored that dull ache in his belly, distracting himself with the crappy motel television while Sam munched away happily on whatever food they had left, completely unaware that tomorrow, he might be in the same boat as his older brother.</p><p>Dean hasn't been that hungry in a long time. And even though they had huge breakfast this morning, that dull ache has started to creep up on Dean as they drove to their next case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bellyaches - Prompt: Starvation

**Author's Note:**

> For my Daily Destiel Drabble prompt fill.

In the life of Dean Winchester, there were many times when he went hungry. His dad wouldn't make it back in time and the food would run out. Or Dean would be short on cash and make sure Sammy was fed instead. He always ignored that dull ache in his belly, distracting himself with the crappy motel television while Sam munched away happily on whatever food they had left, completely unaware that tomorrow, he might be in the same boat as his older brother.

Dean hasn't been that hungry in a long time. And even though they had huge breakfast this morning, that dull ache has started to creep up on Dean as they drove to their next case.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” Sam turns slightly in the passenger seat to face Dean, who is currently white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Dean glances over. “What? Nothing.”

“Right. You're about to bend the steering wheel in half. You're fidgety--”

“I am _not_ fidgety,” Dean mutters, loosening his grip on the wheel.

“--and you keep huffing. What's going on?”

Dean grimaces. “There's nothing 'going on'. I'm just...restless. I don't know. Pent up energy or something.” _And maybe cause you haven't heard from Cas in a couple of weeks_ , his brain supplies helpfully. But he doesn't admit that out loud to Sam.

“Looks like there's a rest stop coming up in a few miles. Why don't we stop. Maybe I can drive for a while.”

They've only been on the road for a couple of hours, but Dean just feels the need to get the hell out of the car.

~*~

Rest stop is a bit of an overstatement, Dean thinks as he pulls into the four car parking lot that has a small building with a bathroom and a water fountain that Dean wouldn’t drink out of it was the last source of water on Earth.

“I’m gonna hit the head,” he tells Sam as he exits the car.

He shuts the bathroom door behind him, flipping the deadbolt, and makes his way over to the sink. Staring at his face in the mirror, he notices how pale he looks, the smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks standing out, and his eyes look almost feverish.

“Get it together, man,” he mutters to himself, turning on the faucet. That first splash of cold water is a welcome shock and he grabs a paper towel to wipe off his face. “This is Cas,” he tells his reflection. “He’s fine. He’ll contact when he can.” Dean wonders if he stares at himself long enough, will he start to believe that? Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, he bows his head. “Cas, where are you?” he whispers.

Dean doesn’t even hear the flutter of wings that usually accompany Cas’ arrival. He is staring down into a dirty bathroom sink one moment and being pushed against the wall the next, Cas’ mouth presses against his in a rough kiss, their teeth clacking together.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas murmurs against Dean’s lips when he finally pulls away. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s hands clench around Cas’ coat. “Where the fuck have you been?” he growls out. “I’ve been losing my mind here.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Truly.” Cas leans in again, lips brushing against Dean’s cheeks, each eyelid, the tip of his nose. “I couldn’t get away until now.”

Dean pushes at Cas’ shoulders. “Don’t do that again. Give me a sign or something, but don’t just leave me hanging like that for days.”

“I won’t,” Cas promises and moves back in, hands on either side of Dean’s face. “I missed you too,” Cas says, and Dean whimpers when he kissees him again, tongue warm and wet licking into Dean’s mouth. Dean isn’t sure how long they stay that way, mouths moving together, taking in the breath of the other, swallowing each other groans.

When Sam calls out “Dean are you okay in there?” with a sharp knock on the door, Dean pull back cursing softtly.

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” he yells out, voice shaky, and lets his head fall back against the wall with a thud.

“You should get back on the road,” Cas finally says. “I’ll come to you tonight. Take the Impala out and call for me.”

“Yeah. Yeah okay, Cas,” Dean replies to an empty room.

~*~

Cas comes to him just after midnight. Dean tucks the Impala in a scrubby area that is off a dirt road, which is off another dirt road. He’s been pacing at the front of the car, stomach fluttering nervously when he’d hears the flapping of wings, and before he can even utter Cas’ name, he finds himself bent over the hood of the Impala, being held firmly in place by Cas’ hand on the back of his neck.

“Stay right there,” Cas commands, removing his hand from Dean’s neck to work at the buttons and zipper of his pants, working them down, stooping to pull off Dean’s shoes before removing his pants the rest of the way.

The hood of the car is still warm, but the air moving over his exposed skin makes him shudder and he feels Cas move closer, anticipation making him pant against the black metal underneath him. Dean feels Cas place a hand on each asscheek, spreading them apart, the first touch of Cas’ tongue sending him up on tiptoes. Cas laps at his hole, tongue dipping in randomly, and Dean shifts on shaky legs trying to keep himself steady.

“There you go,” Cas murmurs at him. “Open up for me, Dean.”  
Dean’s quiet gasp turns into a long ragged moan when Cas finallly slips a finger in, twisting as it slides in and out, bending it to hit in that perfect spot that makes Dean’s cock twitch.

“I’ve felt how much you ache,” Cas tells him as he adds a second finger. “It’s been so hard to bare, knowing you’ve felt this way.” Cas leaves two fingers buried deep, stroking along Dean’s inner walls, his other hand moving to grasp Dean’s shaft. He strokes it lightly as he begins to work his fingers in and out again slowly. “So many times I wanted to come to you and couldn’t.”

“You--you’re here n-now,” Dean manages to stutter out.

“I am,” Cas replies, pulling away.

Dean never hears the sound of Cas unzipping pants or the rustling as he moves in behind him. Just the feeling of being spread apart once again, the head of Cas’ dick nudging at his entrance. As Cas begins to move, pushing in slowly inch by inch, Dean wants to beg Cas to fuck him, hard, fast, make him feel something other than this aching void he’s felt the past two weeks.

“Cas,” Dean finally manages to choke out. “Please Cas, harder...”

He hears Cas growl out from behind him, strong hands gripping him at the waist, holding him firmly as Cas moves faster, pelvis slapping up against Dean’s ass, driving Dean’s body into the hood of the Impala harder. Dean’s fist slams down on the car as he comes in heavy spurts all over the grill of the Impala and then again when Cas finally stills, groaning as his cock pulses deep inside of Dean, hands kneading Dean’s asscheeks when he pulls back, pushing back in with a hiss, rocking against him gently until he finally softens and slips out. Dean closes his eyes and smiles.

When they open he’s laying on his side, staring at the hotel wall. Dean bolts upright and takes note of Sam’s empty bed and the sunlight streaming in the window.

“I was wondering if you ever planned to get up. We gotta hit the road,” Sam says as he steps out of the bathroom. “Come on. Ten minutes.” He snatches up his duffle bag and walks out the door, which barely has any time to close before he sticks his head back in. “Dude, what happened to the car?!”


End file.
